Pleasure Trade
by Oblique
Summary: Maybe PG-11ish, not sure-anyways, it's SLASH, TM (what else?) The title came first, then the story: What does the Syndicate do for a living?


Pleasure Trade  
  
Merton laughed as Tommy's face contorted in confusion, trying to break through his standard post-coital fog and figure out why Merton looked so smug. "Do I even wanna ask?" Tommy questioned lazily, hoping that Mert would remember how little he was capable of just then, stretched out on Merton's comforter in the Lair, cuddling around Merton.  
Merton laughed again. "Everything came together just then." He remarked obscurely. Tommy seemed to understand what he meant anyways; he replied immediately: "I know what you mean-that was, God, unbelievable, Mert."  
Merton smiled happily and managed to barely blush at all, accepting the compliment remarkably well for him. "Thanks Tommy, but that's not what I meant;" An undertone of chuckling kept slipping into Merton's voice-Tommy was fascinated by how sated he sounded, and had some real trouble comprehending the words behind the voice. "My lycanthropic knowledge has been considerably expanded tonight."  
Tommy sat up quickly and looked down to his hands, horrified that he had lost control and wolfed out without realizing it. Merton hastened to reassure him, mentally berating himself for upsetting Tommy. "No, Tommy, that's not what I meant!" Merton ran his hand up Tommy's side, pulling him gently back down next to him. "You know you did a wonderful job of staying in control," Merton said soothingly. "I just meant that I understand a lot of the vaguer information I found out about werewolves online. I found out a lot about the Syndicate, especially. In fact," Merton giggled for a second before continuing again: "I don't think I'll ever be able to take them seriously again after this."  
Tommy adopted one of the lost-and-confused looks he does so well, pulling his eyebrows together. Merton marveled that Tommy could manage to tilt his head to the side while lying in bed, and with an armful of giggly Merton. "Huh?" he asked eloquently.  
"Well Tommy, let me ask you this-what does the Syndicate do?"  
"You know, Merton, they're a group of evil werewolves."  
"Yes, that's what they are, but what do they do?"  
"Um.try to capture me, I guess, and try to make other people into werewolves."  
"Right. But how do they make money by doing this?"  
".I dunno."  
"That's just it! When we 'snuck' into the Syndicate to recapture Lori, we saw their secret evil headquarters. They have a pretty sweet setup, and they all have the matching costumes. I mean, do you have any idea how much a dungeon like theirs would cost?"  
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you drooling over the bad guy's hideout, Mert. Get to the point." Tommy waited impatiently for Mert to get to the point-highly expressive hand motions are easier to appreciate when not laying in the same bed, he noted.  
"Right, ahem, well, anyway-how do they afford it all? They don't make or sell anything, besides werewolves; I wondered initially if they were thieves. So, I did some pretty extensive research of the Syndicate and their accounts, looking specifically for police files about 'wild dog attacks' and such. And, um, not all of my investigating was exactly legal, per se." Merton trailed off as he saw the look on Tommy's face. "I had to do it, Tommy! They could have killed you if we couldn't stop them!"  
"I know, Mert, and it's alright, I guess. But don't do it anymore! If you got arrested, where would that leave me? Go on, tell me how the Syndicate makes money."  
"Okay then-long story short, I had to override the parental controls on my computer to get to the files I was looking for, so I got rid of all the controls while I was at it. After that, when I did a search on lycanthropes, I found some.interesting sites."  
Tommy's face darkened as he realized exactly what Merton might mean. He growled under his breath at the thought of Merton looking at pictures of.he wasn't quite sure what, exactly, but it wasn't him, and it made Tommy jealous.  
Merton let out a half-scared, half-amused squeak-Tommy was fascinated with the range of sounds Merton was capable of making. "Nothing likes that, Tommy, honestly. As though I have ~any~ energy left over, with you around!" Merton grinned hugely, nudging Tommy suggestively.  
"I guess not." Tommy admitted, finding the situation funny as well, and blushing a little at the good-natured teasing.  
"But, I haven't told you yet! The Syndicate makes their money through business-aboveboard, legal, non-brainwashing business!! I couldn't believe it, but I checked and rechecked, and it's true. There's nothing illegal going on in the Syndicates business."  
Tommy frowned again, failing to see how this concerned them at all, let alone their sex life in particular.  
"What do you think the Syndicate is selling, Tommy?"  
Oh!! One of those corny little lights went off in Tommy's head. "Um.do I even need to say it, Mert?"  
"No, Tommy! I said 'legal', remember?" Merton stared at Tommy with his alert, intense blue-gray eyes.  
"I.can't really think of anything. Um, wolf-fur rugs?" Tommy attempted to joke.  
Merton favored Tommy with an annoyed half-smile. He could hardly contain his excitement, but he called upon his last reserves of patience. "I'll give you a hint.it has to do with being werewolves, and their target audience is mainly people like Alistair."  
Tommy frown deepened-he understood the magic aspect, but he couldn't think of anything that would have to do with that but still be legal.Tommy blushed some more as he tried to think of all the 'business' things involving sex and werewolves. Prostitution was out, being illegal and not exactly related to wolfy powers. Predictably, Tommy ran out of patience before Merton. "All right Mert, what is it?"  
"What do I taste like, Tommy?"  
Tommy wasn't sure how to answer-his primary instincts were focusing on finding out what had happened to Merton. He'd been a little rough last night, maybe he'd hit Merton's head against the headboard accidentally.Mert wasn't particularly given to changing topics suddenly, and he understood how awkward Tommy felt just talking about their sex life.  
Merton interpreted Tommy's bewildered silence correctly. "Focus, Tommy! What do I taste like when you.you know." Merton made some broad, highly interpretable gestures with his hand. Tommy furrowed his brow again, trying to decode Merton's incredibly frustrating allusions. Oh. Oh!!! "You mean.? Well, uh, kind of.salty?" Tommy was blushing furiously, and Merton wasn't helping things any with his little smirk. Tommy wondered exactly how painful this would have been if Mert hadn't made the 'long story short'.  
"Right-all guys do. Well, all human guys do. You, my wolfy friend, taste.different."  
"Like.what?" Tommy mumbled from Merton's chest, cooling his red face in Merton's cool skin.  
Merton thought to himself for a minute, trying not to be distracted by the tempting vision of naked Tommy slowly rubbing his warm face into his chest.  
"Sort of.well, definitely sweet, and kind of.smoky, almost. Well, its good, that's my point-and it's very distinct, not something you can fake easily" "And the reason we're talking about this?" Tommy asked, sounding more resigned than snappish. "Well, Tommy, the Syndicate sells.y'know.over the Internet. To anyone interested enough in the paranormal to pay for it. It's used a lot sometimes in spells-though certainly not in the kind of books I have." Mert trailed off as he noted Tommy convulsing helplessly against his stomach. He joined Tommy in the hilarity. "You.they.you mean they.sell." Tommy trailed off, laughing so hard that he had no breath to spare for words. The serious mood the conversation was broken; Mert rediscovered the humor in the situation and joined in Tommy's laughter. They rolled around on the bed, clutching their sides in laughter. "And to think, we were afraid of them!". "I'm glad we never shook their hands!". A few minutes later their laughter calmed. Merton and Tommy warily avoided each other's glances, knowing that a look could set them off again. They both gasped for breath, slowly coming back down from their endorphin high. Suddenly Merton broke the silence, in a mild tone: "You were the youngest guy there, so it's no wonder they were trying so hard to recruit you for the order. I never pictured you working behind a desk, but I certainly didn't think you'd be doing anything like that." Merton dissolved into giggles, but Tommy just groaned and reached for one of the extra pillows on Merton's bed. Merton was still chuckling weakly when he got hit with the pillow, square in the face. When Tommy pulled the pillow away from Mert's face with a flourish, he could see feathers all over the startled boy's face-this pillow had apparently been used earlier, in one of Tommy's attempts to restrain himself. It was easy enough to make out the claw marks running jaggedly down the side. The white feathers contrasted with the black sheets and Merton's glossy black hair, but it was the sight of Merton blinking his eyes futilely and pursing his pink lips to blow at the bothersome feathers that pulled Tommy inextricably into the prone form. Tommy flung the pillow behind him as he slipped his arms around Merton's back to pull him partially upright. He pulled his mouth reluctantly away long enough to whisper against Mert's flushed lips: "Thought you didn't have any spells that needed my.assistance," Merton's throaty voice answered huskily: "I'm sure I can think of something to keep you busy." 


End file.
